Bosio felt that if he remained in his room alone with the horror of his position, he should go mad before night.

He was weakly resolved not to marry Veronica, but he knew and for the first time dreaded the power Matilde had over his thoughts as well as his actions.

He felt that if he could avoid her, he could still cling to the remnant of honour, but that she would tear it from him if she could and cast it to the winds.

The whole card-house of his ill-founded life was trembling under the breath of fate, and its near fall seemed to threaten its existence.
He went out and walked slowly through sunny, unfrequented places, high up in the city, trying to shake off the chill of his fear as a man hopes to rid himself of an ague by sitting in the sun.

But the chill was in his heart, and it was his soul that shivered.